


European Christmas Re-Union

by Beanbag75844



Category: Nation Being Things (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Austria and Hungary are exes, Austria is Scary, Austria is going to murder Czechia one of these days, COVID-19, Characters Playing Animal Crossing Game(s), Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Christmas Special, European Union, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's 2AM and I can't think, Krampus - Freeform, Lots of alcohol, Mari Lwyd, Mistletoe, Not Edited Very Well, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Vlogger Portugal, We Broke Germany, Weird Christmas Traditions in General, hopefully we'll be able to update it in the coming weeks, kinda rushed because we wanted to have this out by Christmas, most of the tagged characters haven't appeared yet in this stage of the fic, Åland and Liechtenstein are Too Innocent for This
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beanbag75844/pseuds/Beanbag75844
Summary: This is fine. This was all planned. Chaos is normal within the European Union, or at least that's what Germany's trying to convince everyone, including himself.This was a huge collaboration between the members of the Lullindo Discord. Thanks to Nina, Jiean, AC, Arkadia, and everyone else who made this possible.Updates every few days as I finish editing the draft.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

White flakes of snow gently drifted down from the heavens above, coating the house in a layer of powder. In the yard, a large plastic candy cane fell over in the slight breeze, prompting Austria to look out the window, startled by the noise.  
“Hey Germany, could you get that for me? I’m still busy with the pastries.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” he sighed as he threw on a coat and rushed outside. However, he didn’t expect to see a dilapidated car pulling into the driveway, and three people climbing out of its doors. The tall, pale man in the driver’s seat struggled to dislodge his heavy coat from between the seats. The other two, a red-haired man in a kilt and a brown-haired woman holding a corgi in her arms, laughed at the scene and the obscenities England was yelling.  
“Welcome, and merry Christmas,” greeted Germany, putting on his best fake smile to mask his stress.  
The scene was interrupted by Austria shouting through the window. “Hey Germany, I thought the guests weren’t supposed to arrive until 17:00.”  
“Yeah, well, England’s here to help us set up. Not sure about Scotland and Wales, though.” he shouted back.  
Austria sighed. “Why don’t you ever tell me these things…”  
Germany opted to ignore the question, instead handing out various Christmas hats to the three new arrivals. He tossed one at Austria as well. England looked at his hat in disdain, while Scotland tried to fit his over the Balmoral cap he was currently wearing.  
“Anyway, you three should help us decorate the house. The streamers are in the box over there, and there’s also the banners that need unwinding.”  
“The banners?” England raised an eyebrow.  
Germany handed him the tail end of three lines of letters spelling, in red, green, white, blue, and yellow, “EUROPEAN CHRISTMAS RE-UNION.”  
“Oh God, those colours are horrendous.” England remarked.  
“Well, it’s red, green, and white for Christmas, and blue and yellow for the European Union.” Germany explained.  
“B-but I’m not part of your dumb union anymore.”  
Again, Germany purposely turned a deaf ear to his comment, and turned to help Scotland and Wales, who were tangled together in a long string of mini European flags. England took this opportunity to drop his hat in the trash can.  
The doorbell rang, followed by a gentle knock on the door. Austria noticed that Germany had now gotten tangled in the flags alongside the other two, and went to open it instead.  
“Merry Christmas!” Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg piped up in unison. They each handed her a gift box, which she placed under the still-barren tree. Scotland motioned to Wales at the presents, whispering “oh fuck we left ours in the car.”  
After the Netherlands untangled the three stuck in the flags, Scotland ran to the car, England handed Wales the banners, and Austria pulled Germany aside.  
“Don’t tell me those three are here to help us set up as well…”  
Germany gulped. “Y...yes…”  
“So you thought my help on its own wasn’t enough.”  
“No, it’s not that. It’s that you’re in charge of the baking and the baking only. I can’t decorate this entire house on my own.”  
“Wow, so my only use to you is baking? That sure is great for my self worth, Germany.” Austria crossed her arms.  
The doorbell chimed again, and this time, the one at the door was Liechtenstein.  
“Merry Christmas Liechtenstein!” Belgium greeted. “Where’s Switzerland?”  
Liechtenstein leaned in close to Belgium’s ear. “Don’t tell anybody, but I snuck out. She wouldn’t let me come because of the virus, but I trust you guys to keep us safe. I couldn’t resist. By the way, what’s a ‘EPUORAEN CRHATSMIS RE-UONIN?’' she asked, pointing at the wall, prompting a “Sorry, I’m dyslexic. Gimme a sec…” from Wales.  
“You should probably hide somewhere where the organizers won’t be able to see you.” Luxembourg suggested. “They might call Switzerland and let her know you’re here.”  
“Good idea.” Liechtenstein agreed, then started heading for the basement.

Another knock at the front door made Austria nudge Germany with an elbow.  
“OUCH! Hey, whoever is there, I swear they're not here to help! Could you stop being a meanie and enjoy that we’re all together again?”  
“I would enjoy it more if the organizator wasn’t _der Mameluck!_ ” Austria gritted her teeth before she went to open the door.  
She was immediately blown by a mix of expensive perfumes as well as France's chatter with someone on her phone, followed by all her siblings except for Romania. All looked both incredibly dejected and excited to be back together.  
Austria quickly let them in from the cold, scanning every single one of the Latin siblings.  
France pressed friendly kisses on both of her cheeks while still being on the phone who apparently wasn’t so satisfied with something she’s done.  
Spain and Portugal just rushed around her, Spain looking a bit upset as she watched France’s back, Portugal whispering to her something which was supposed to help her cheer up but evidently didn’t.  
And finally, Italy. He looked still a bit sick from the spring illness rodeo that struck him but otherwise, it was the good old Italy she knew. This time, however, he had a cowslip on his shirt. Austria wasn’t sure what it was supposed to symbolise but she only nodded at him as a greeting, finally closing the door and looking around if the new guests won’t cause any drama as per usual.  
France almost immediately headed to Germany.  
“What the fuck is that complex-full, fulvous, absolutely and totally pedantic rat doing at the EU reunion?!?!”  
Germany seemed to be looking right through her, offering her a hairband with candy cane horns, murmuring: “It's okay, it was planned, go enjoy the party.”  
And that's why France did exactly the opposite and headed towards England, who seemed to be talking about something very important with Portugal. (vloggers au Easter egg, y’all)

"Umm.. excuse me?? What are you doing here??? And why are you talking to my brother??" She asked England aggressively.  
"I'm helping out with decorations. And what we're talking about is none of your business. Now f—k off," England replied.  
France was, of course, extremely offended.  
"Help out? Ha! Help out my a—. You're here because Germany and Austria pities you! I mean, who wouldn't? You have absolutely zero friends!"  
"Hey now, he's my friend," Portugal chimed in.  
"Yeah, did you forget that your brother is my friend?” England snapped back. “At least I have someone who doesn't hate me. You? Oh no, darling. Everyone here hates you!"  
"I don't hate France," Portugal chimed in again. As much as he loved his friend and sister, he was pretty annoyed with their fights. He just wanna get this over with so he and England could talk about his vlogs. “Sorry to interrupt but me and England are in the middle of talking about stuff. I'll talk to you later, okay?" he tried to cut off the argument.  
"B-but," France stuttered.  
"No buts missy! I'm the priority now," England said with a smug face. 

She so wanted to claw off his face right then and there.

And yet, thanks to her brother's pleading eyes, she stormed away to the kitchen counter, where she poured a glass of wine and drank all her frustrations away.  
Portugal, seeing this, felt kinda guilty, cause it seemed like he just brushed her off. I'll make it up with her later, he thought.

Germany was watching on the sidelines. He sighed. "Well, at least that ended slightly better than I thought," he murmured.  
"Hey there Germany!" A female voice came to him.  
He turned to see Spain approaching him. "Hey, Spain."  
"Whatcha doing?" She asked.  
"Just setting up decorations for the party," he replied.  
“Well, I wanted to ask if—OH MY GOD, NED! THIS IS A PRIVATE CONVERSATION!” Spain was interrupted by the tall man coming over and dangling mistletoe above her and Germany’s heads.  
“Aw, come on Spain, it’s just a little Christmas cheer!” Netherlands insisted. Germany just stared at him with an expression saying how the fuck did you find the mistletoe already I thought I hid it well enough this year.  
“Ned, please leave us alone. You can hang the mistletoe elsewhere around the house, but please not here.” he conceded. The party hadn’t even started yet, and the social interaction was already getting on his nerves.  
“Alright, alright.” Netherlands proceeded to back away, turn around, then produce a roll of tape and ten-something branches of mistletoe from his pockets, to Spain and Germany’s bemusement.  
“I’ve got a feeling this is going to be a long night.”


	2. Chapter 2

As the day went on, the house began to look more and more like an actual Christmas party. The spelling mistakes in the banners were corrected, mistletoe was placed above practically every doorway, the gifts under the tree started piling up—however, the tree itself was still not fully decorated, even with Belgium, Luxembourg, _and_ Wales manning ornament duty.  
“Oh my God, how many boxes of ornaments do you even _have_?” groaned Luxembourg. “And why is there a pickle here? Does this have anything to do with Rick and Morty?”  
“No, no, ignore the pickle, no, I’ll handle it.” Germany tried to assure him, even though his hands were full with plates and silverware.   
_Ding dong!_  
“I’ll handle that too.”  
He set down his pile of plates far enough away from the edges of the table, and went to open the door.

"Merry Christmas!"  
The Nordics were on the other side. Denmark dropped his LEGO-branded plastic bag and immediately ran over to Netherlands, who scooped him up into a big-ol’ hug. Norway sighed, picked up the bag, and placed it gently under the tree alongside his own present. Iceland and Finland followed suit, the latter of which immediately escaped around the corner, hoping to avoid social contact.  
“Uh, a little help here?” Sweden was left with the largest bag of all: the one containing all the food they brought. Austria, hearing this, came out of one of the backrooms…  
“OH MY GOD AUSTRIA WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” shouted Belgium from across the room. Standing behind the kitchen counter, wearing Austria’s clothes, there was a grotesque-looking demon with horns, sharp teeth, and long, ashy hair the texture of hay.  
“Oh sheiße, that’s the Krampus mask. I was just testing to see if it still fits. I was going to wait until more people showed up.” Austria hastily explained.  
Sweden, hearing the scream, took one glance in the general direction and shrieked in shock, dropping the food bag with a loud _clatter_. Everyone else just stopped and stared at her, whose face was gradually turning red. Luckily, since the bag was waterproof, there was no need to clean anything off the floor. Sweden hastily scooped up the bag and bolted to the kitchen, desperately hoping everyone else would forget about this and carry on. However, she knew Denmark and Norway would never let her hear the end of this.  
“Hey Aus, you should take off that mask. You’re sort of scaring the guests,” Germany turned to Austria.  
“Alright, alright,” she groaned, taking off the mask and placing it on a small table. 

The party must go on, and as everyone returned to their conversations, Åland shuffled around the living room awkwardly. He didn’t really know that many countries outside the Nordic circle, with the exception of his small friend group of Liechtenstein, North Macedonia, Moldova, and Cambodia—united by their shared experience of being ostracized for taking on the appearance of minors. Cambodia was not invited to the party for obvious reasons, and none of the other three were part of the EU. However, he thought, there was a glimmer of hope—they might have been brought to the party by their EU-member relatives. So, he kept his eyes peeled in case he could spot anyone, especially Liechtenstein, since neither Romania nor the South Slavs were here yet.  
“Psst. Psssssst.” a voice came to him from below. Åland eyed the staircase leading downward for a bit, and noticed that the door to the basement was left open by a sliver. He couldn’t see anyone inside, though, so he shrugged it off as just his imagination.  
As he turned the other way, a hand suddenly gripped him from behind and forcefully dragged him down the stairs into the basement. His eyes widened in panic and he was about to scream—but then he caught a glimpse of his assailant’s face. Liechtenstein’s blue eyes were staring back at him.  
“Geez, you scared me!” Åland said to her.   
“Shh… be quiet! Someone might hear us,” she replied.  
“...What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the party?” he asked her.  
“..well.. Switzerland wouldn’t let me go because of COVID restrictions, so I snuck out.”  
Aland turned to her, placing a hand over his mouth in shock.  
“You _what_?”  
“I… snuck out... Look I know it’s wrong—”  
“No, no. I’m not judging you. I’m… actually impressed. Never thought you would rebel,” he smirked.  
“I just really wanna go out. I was bored staying at home every day,” she replied.   
“That’s valid.”  
“Anyway, did you bring it?”   
“Bring what?”  
“The Switch,” she answered.  
“Oh, I did! Give me a sec,” Åland fumbled through his pockets and brought out his Nintendo Switch. Liechtenstein took out hers too. The two then proceeded to sit on the staircase and visit each other's Animal Crossing islands.

_BZZZ! BZZZ! Moskau, Moskau, Wirf die Gläser an die Wand! Russland ist ein schönes Land! Ho ho ho ho ho, hey!_  
Germany scrambled to shut off his phone, knocking over a (thankfully unopened) can of beer in the process.   
Denmark poked Netherlands on the elbow. “Ha, Germany’s ringtone is literally Moskau.” he teased.  
Germany’s face grew red. “Shut up,” he grumbled, punching Denmark in the shoulder. His phone vibrated again, and his eyes fell on the Caller ID. He tensed up, but quickly gulped down his apprehension.  
“I… have to take this call. Be right back.”  
He sprinted to the washroom, slammed the door shut, and tentatively laid his finger on the “accept” button.  
On the other end was a very, very furious Switzerland.   
“GERMANY! You didn’t actually host the party, did you?” she screamed through the phone.  
“No, no, of course I didn’t—”  
“I can hear people talking in the background, you know.” she chided. “And plus, Liechty wouldn’t shut up about it.”   
“Okay, okay, fine. I didn’t cancel the party.” Germany admitted. “But it’s not like us nation-beings can actually _catch_ COVID, right?”  
“Remember what happened to Italy?”  
“That’s not his fault, it’s his citizens’. Unless the entire population of our countries die from the virus, we should be fine!”  
“We should be setting a good example for everybody else! What would your neighbours think?”  
Outside the washroom, the party ground to a halt under the noise of Switzerland’s tirade, which had now devolved into an angry German shouting match. The normally calm, neutral, peacemaking mediator had blown up like she was rigged with bombs. Even the two in the basement could hear the commotion through the floor, and Liechtenstein curled up into the fetal position, cowering in fear.  
“Hey, at least she doesn’t know you snuck out, right?” Åland tried to comfort her.  
Switzerland’s voice suddenly paused for a second, as she evidently noticed something off.  
“Wait a second.  
Where’s Liechtenstein?”


End file.
